


Drunk Last Night

by justbygrace



Series: Inspired by Songs [12]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drunk Wanderings, F/M, alcohol consumption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 14:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9662096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: Loosely based on on the song 'Drunk Last Night' by the Eli Young Band





	

John Smith was drunk. He usually had a much higher tolerance for alcohol, but Donna had dared him to a drinking competition based off of science fiction television show facts and one thing had led to another and he was now stumbling down the street utterly pissed. He had been planning on heading home, but apparently had taken a wrong turn somewhere because this was definitely not his corner of campus. If he wasn't mistaken - and he really didn't think he was - the building straight ahead was Jack's dorm and it was looking more and more like a little slice of heaven with each roll of his stomach.

It would not be the first time he had crashed on the floor in Jack's suite and it was unlikely to be the last. Patting his pockets, John realized he'd left his pass card in his jacket which was probably still back at the dive where he'd imbibed twice his body weight in tequila shots. He sighed and started around the building to the corner where Jack lived. His suite was on the third floor, but there was a tree the perfect distance from the edge of the building to make climbing up a breeze. It was more of a breeze when the earth stood still, but John somehow made it up to the window ledge without falling or hurling or passing out - all of which seemed liable to occur at any given moment.

Thanking the gods of sneaking in late that the window was open, John easily removed the screen and crawled through with a sigh of relief. The drop from the window to the floor was a lot further than he had anticipated and he hit the floor with a thud. Rubbing his head and groaning, John crawled across the floor to the bathroom (it was going to take way too much effort to stand up right then) and promptly lost at least fifty percent of the tequila in the toilet. As he rummaged through the medicine cabinet for something to counteract the oncoming hangover, it occurred to him that there were several distinctly feminine hygiene products strewn about. He started to shake his head and then swiftly stopped that nonsense and merely gave Jack and his latest conquest an inward thumbs up.

He made his way out to the main living room area (and never had he been more thankful that Jack's suite was set up with three private bedrooms and a shared living space) and flopped down - carefully so as not to jar his stomach or his head - onto the couch, only to let out a very manly grunt of surprise when something soft and fluffy flew into his face. It was a cat. John had always liked cats, but liking cats when you can see them coming and liking cats at two am in the dark when you are drunk are two Very Different Things. He flung the cat away from him and heard it land with an annoyed hiss some distance away and it wasn't until he was thoroughly satisfied that there would be no more cats that he finally laid down. His last thought before passing out was that Jack did not own a cat and he really could have sworn that his suite-mate was allergic to felines, but he really couldn't be bothered to think about it just then.

~~~~~

Rose Tyler was late for class. She had overslept her alarm after a night of dreaming about cat nuns and being possessed by a bitchy trampoline - she swore she was going to lay off the caffeine right before bed. Rushing out of her room while still shoving her feet into shoes and zipping her jacket, she stumbled to a halt because there was a stranger asleep on the couch. A male stranger who wasn't wearing a shirt and was drooling into the sofa pillows. She stared at him in shock, all thoughts of her psych class completely fleeing her mind because for one, males (strangers or no) were very rarely seen in this suite at all and only when all suite-mates were notified and secondly, well, secondly there was a shirtless male with really great hair lightly snoring on her couch.

Chip, her orange tabby, appeared, winding around her ankles and purring loudly. Lifting him up, Rose absently told him what a beautiful boy he was while she thought about what on earth she was going to do about the stranger. She wouldn't have thought he was going to wake up any time soon until he did, opening his eyes blearily and blinking at his surroundings in confusion. At last his inspection found her and his jaw dropped open in shock. Reach down to the floor beside him, he grabbed a shirt (much to Rose's equal relief and regret) and a pair of wire-framed glasses before regarding her again and speaking.

"You're not Jack."

"Well spotted." Rose agreed amiably.

"I'm not in the habit of sneaking into stranger's dorms, just so you know. I got very drunk last night. Donna and trivia night and tequila do not mix." He shuddered and then winced. "And Jack lives in this building, I know he does. I don't think I was that drunk, at least, I sincerely hope not. Besides this has the same layout more or less. Now that I see it in daylight, I can see that it looks nothing like his suite, more pink for one thing, but let me tell you, at two am this place looks very different."

"How did you get in?" she asked. It was the first thing that came to mind and really the only possible response to his ramblings.

He gestured towards the window. "Climbed up the tree and through the window."

"Well, that is not reassuring at all," Rose said, moving to close the window.

"No, suppose it isn't. Is this the third floor, just out of curiosity?"

"It is not. It is the fourth." Rose gathered her wits and headed towards the kitchenette. "Tea?"

"Ahhh. Well, I guess I was drunker than I thought. Also, yes, please." He stood up and followed her, grabbing two mugs from where they were drying and setting them out as if this was a regular thing that they did together.

"So, Jack Harkness is whose suite you were planning on crashing in last night?" Rose had finally put two and two together.

"Yes. Jack. You would know him, of course you would." His hand went to the back of his neck and for the first time he looked uncomfortable. "I'm John Smith, by the way. My friends call me the Doctor."

"I'm Rose Tyler. My friends call me Rose," she said, surprising herself with the tiny bit of flirting.

"Rose Tyler," he pronounced her name like he'd done it before. "You're Rose Tyler."

She raised her eyebrows at him silently, willing him to explain himself.

"I was, we were, um," His gaze skittered off her face and towards the wall. "Last month, charity fundraiser, erm, date thing?"

Rose stared at him, trying to work out what on earth he was saying and then everything fell into place. "Oh. Oh! You're the Doctor! You were supposed to meet me there! You bailed at the last minute. You stood me up!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't, it wasn't, I shouldn't have...I am sorry." He was blushing furiously and she couldn't help relenting at the pitiful sight he made in his wrinkled clothes and sleep-tousled hair, not to mention those glasses.

"It's alright." She shrugged and poured the boiling water into their mugs. "Just don't let it happen again." Her eyes widened as she realized what she had insinuated. She opened her mouth to apologize but he cut her off.

"I won't. Ever. In fact, let me take you to breakfast to make up for it?" He waved a dismissive hand at their fresh mugs of tea.

She smiled, all thoughts of her psych class leaving her mind. "Absolutely."

"Brilliant." He reached out a hand, pulling her towards the door. "Just, let's stop by and thank Jack first?"

"Yeah? What are we thanking Jack for?" She could already tell she was going to go on adventures with this Doctor.

"For living on the third floor," he said with a grin. "Allons-y!"


End file.
